


love, my love

by starsfoil



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsfoil/pseuds/starsfoil
Summary: there is a statue in the very heart of garreg mach, and rumor has it that if his true love takes the statue’s hand, he will return to flesh and blood once more. felix hugo fraldarius doesn’t believe the rumors, but it’ll only be one quick picture, right?
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 198





	love, my love

If one deigned to pay Garreg Mach’s town square a visit, they might find its famed statue right at its heart, a man said to be so beautiful that even in stone, his visage could not be completely captured. Frozen atop his noble steed, the Lance of Ruin—a Hero’s Relic that has long been lost to time—clutched in one of his hands, Sylvain Jose Gautier awaits his true love with a hand outstretched to hold theirs. If one believes in the stories, they might take his hand in their own, and perhaps the stone knight may return to flesh and blood yet. But these are only rumors and legends, passed through word of mouth.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius, named after the First King’s Shield, does not believe the rumours, but when Ingrid ushers him to the side as Dorothea holds up her camera for a picture, he does not complain. There are worse things than being stuck with his best friend and her girlfriend, even if he has to be the third wheel. He had resigned himself to spending the annual school trip to Garreg Mach alone after Dimitri fell ill and couldn’t make it, so he can handle their small showings of affection if it means he is not spending the trip alone after all.

“He’s quite the looker, don’t you think?” Dorothea asks as she glances at the statue. “He’s life-sized too, so one could easily believe the legends. Still, Ingrid, love, if they are true and he turns back into a human, you have to promise me you won’t leave me for him, no matter how good looking or charming.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes as she reaches up to take the statue’s hand. “I think I’m the one who needs to be worried.”

Predictably, the statue doesn’t turn back into a man, and Dorothea fakes a few grateful tears as she passes the camera to Ingrid for her own picture, taking the statue’s hand gently, as if any sudden movement might break it. A serene but longing expression takes over her face, one that he has seen many a time before when she practiced for her auditions in their dorm, her voice carrying throughout the room as the night wore on, long after he retired to bed.

“Felix!” He startles, spinning around to come face to face with Annette, Mercedes and Emile trailing right behind her. The siblings each greet him in their own ways. Mercedes offers him a kind smile and a slight nod of her head to say hello, while Emile just gives him a blank look. Felix takes what he can get from the younger Bartels sibling; it wasn’t too long ago that Emile was glowering instead of staring.

“Hey,” he says, looking over his shoulder to see Dorothea still in the middle of her impromptu photoshoot. He turns back just in time for Annette to shove a paper bag into his hands. “What is this?”

“The professor bought everyone some sweets!” Annette grins so brightly that it’s hard not to smile back. “Ashe went to go grab some for his little siblings, and I got you an extra box for Dimitri. I know you don’t like sweets, but I swear these ones are good, and if they aren’t, you can just give them to Glenn.”

“Sure,” he says, setting the bag down with the rest of his things. There’s little harm in taking a box of cookies, and someone else can eat them instead. Or maybe he would just dump them all on the boar as a simultaneous present to say get-well-soon and a message to say look-I- _did_ -have-fun.

“Ooh, are Dorothea and Ingrid taking pictures with the statue?” Annette’s eyes raise to stare at the man’s face. “He was that war general, right? He served under the First King during the Unification War, but died while defending Garreg Mach, so they put up a statue in his honor after the war was over.”

Felix wants to tease her for being the only person to know the statue’s actual past, but it’s endearing to hear her get excited so he lets her be. Her family is descended from the noble House of Dominic, and she is said to have been named after another one of the First King’s friends, though most of their names have been lost to history.

“I wonder if the legends about it are true,” Mercedes muses as Dorothea finishes her photoshoot and begins waving him forward for his turn. “They say that if his true love takes his hand, he’ll turn back into a mortal man.”

“Unbelievable,” Emile intones in his usual flat voice. “That’s not even possible.”

“Come now, Emile, they’re called legends for a reason.”

“Felix!” Ingrid shouts. “Hurry up, before the professor gets back!”

With a heavy sigh, he approaches the statue, scowling at the look on its face. He’s beautiful—even Felix can begrudgingly admit that—sitting astride his horse, a smile on his face as he awaits his partner with a hand outstretched. Whoever sculpted it knew exactly what they were doing and how it would come off, not that the late knight’s reputation does anything to help the fact that it looked like he was in love with anyone who passed. He stands next to the statue and raises an eyebrow as Dorothea lowers her camera and frowns at him.

“Take his hand!” she says. “Come on, Felix, it’s not like it will hurt you. Just for one picture, then you can go sulk about how those rumours are utter nonsense.”

He rolls his eyes as he reaches a hand up to take the statue’s, turning toward the camera with the best smile he can muster on his face. “There, is this—”

_Felix saw him fall, saw his mask break away for the last time to reveal his fear hiding beneath. Sylvain was always,_ always, _getting himself into some stupid mess. Always the brave one, always the one getting in trouble for his friends._

_He redoubled his efforts against the great knight in front of him, already running across the battlefield before the knight hit the ground, leaving only a bloody path in his wake as he fought to get to his body._

We were supposed to die together. Stupid fool, can’t even keep his own promises.

_Felix had thought that he had banished all his childish hopes long ago, but they returned in full force as he skidded to a stop before Sylvain. Ingrid was already by his side, striking down anyone who came too close while Mercedes hovered over him, her magic casting a white glow over the area._

_“Save him,” Felix gasped as he kneeled beside Sylvain, still with a sly smile on his face even at death’s door._ “Save him!”

_“I’m trying, Felix,” Mercedes said and the light seemed to glow brighter still as she steadied her shaking hands. “I’m trying, but I don’t know if—”_

_“Don’t say it!” he shouted as he stood again, cutting down an approaching enemy before Ingrid could get to him. He whirled back to Mercedes, eyes wide. “He’s not going to die here. Sylvain is too dumb and stupid to know when to die.”_

_“Aw, Fe,” Sylvain murmured weakly, his words slurring together. “Didn’t know you cared.”_

_Felix scowled, pointing his sword at him. “I’ll kill you myself, you idiot.”_

_Sylvain’s smile almost slipped, but he held on. “Nah, you . . .” He paused, letting out a soft groan as he moved to turn over on his side, only for Mercedes to stop him with a stern look. “You . . . wouldn’t . . .”_

_“Sylvain!” He got on his knees again as Ashe and Annette joined their little circle around their dying friend, clutching his hand. As if he only had to squeeze it hard enough to bring him back to life. “Sylvain!” he snarled again as Sylvain’s grip on his hand began to loosen._

_“Sorry, Fe . . .” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t . . . mean to . . . but . . .” Sylvain let out a small laugh, wincing as he did. “You . . . you know . . .”_

_Felix knew the exact moment when Sylvain died, when his weak laughter turned into a deafening silence in his ears, blocking out all other sounds from the battle around them._

_Someone screamed. It took him a moment to recognize his own voice._

“—good enough for—” Felix blinks, his train of thought scattering as he looks around, his hand hovering just above the statue’s stone one. Dorothea scowls, marching toward him as she loops her camera strap around her neck. She reaches out a hand when she’s finally next to him, and he flinches away.

_Dorothea was not at all like the girl he knew in the monastery. She killed most of his battalion with a well-aimed Meteor, almost taking him out too with a quick casting of Fire. He knew she was good, but it never really sunk in how good she was until he was surrounded by the bodies of people that trusted him, all of them dead._

_“Dorothea,” he said, tightening his grip on the Aegis Shield. His sword was at the ready in his other hand, poised to strike at any moment._

_“Why, hello, Felix.” She raised her hands in front of her, the beginnings of a spell already on her lips. “It’s unfortunate that only one of us will be dying here, and believe me, I have no intentions of dying today.”_

_He raised his shield just in time to block most of the blast from her Fire. He tilted his head at her, raising an eyebrow as he readied himself to lunge forward. “That’s funny. Neither do I.”_

“Felix? Hey, are you there?” Dorothea is snapping her fingers in front of his face, but her concerned look tells him that she is more worried than annoyed. Her face softens ever so slightly when it’s clear that he’s heard her. “You don’t have to take the picture if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Felix says, carefully lowering himself to the ground, his head still spinning. “I just need a minute.”

“Felix! Are you alright?” He’s instantly surrounded by his friends, and the pounding pain in his head doubles as he raises it to look Mercedes in the eye. She holds a hand out for him, frowning in concern. “I think you need a break away from the sun. You’ve been standing outside all day, haven’t you?”

He tries to take it, only to slump over again in pain as another wave hits him. He reaches up to clutch his head, letting out a low groan. It feels like he’s dying.

_Felix was dying._

_He knew what he had signed up for when he said yes to Dimitri’s offer. There had always been the chance, however small, that he would have to die for his friend, for his king. The fate of Faerghus was bigger than one man, the life of the king was greater than his Crown Shield. Even he knew that much._

_Still, it had taken him by surprise when the assassin’s dagger found its way to his heart. He had always known he might die in service, but the thought had seemed like a faraway thing, so impossible after nearly a decade of peace, however tenuous it was. Even amidst the chaos of war, the concept of truly dying had never crossed his mind. He had simply thought—foolishly, hopelessly, like the little boy that had died the same day that Glenn did—that they would all make it out alive. That one day they would all be old and gray, and they would send each other letters for birthdays and the holidays, even if they were apart. They were all his family, even if he would never admit it. They were all supposed to see each other to the end._

_“Felix!” Of course, it was Mercedes that found him bent over from pain in the middle of the hallway, the assassin dead beside him. No other healers were permitted in the king’s wing of the palace save for her, and she was the only one Dimitri trusted enough to check on him as he slept, to ensure that there would be no more accidents with his nightmares and his Crest. “Are you alright? What happened?”_

_“Damn . . . assassins,” he muttered as she gently pulled his arms away so she could see his wound. “They’re in the palace, you have to . . .” He winced as she pressed her palms against the bleeding gash in his chest, her hands flaring with magic. “You have to . . . have to tell Ingrid to lock everything down . . .”_

_“Hush, save your breath.” As he laid there, bleeding out on the floor, he wondered if Mercedes was remembering a different night, a different friend bleeding beneath her, his red hair stained even darker with his blood, that stupid smile on his face even as he died. “Felix? Felix, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s too deep, I can’t heal it by myself.”_

_He laughed weakly, shaking his head as he pulled her hands away. “Tell that damn boar . . . He better not die . . .”_

_“Felix? Felix!”_

_“Felix!”_ There is a voice shouting in his ear. He forces himself to open his eyes.

Someone—presumably Emile—has dragged him into the shade, and the pain is mostly gone by the time he tries to sit up. His friends are gathered in a circle around him, the professor standing among them. He winces at the disapproving frown on their face, but it vanishes the moment after he turns to them.

“How are you feeling?” they ask, arms still crossed. “If you’re not feeling well, you know that you have to tell me.”

“I was fine before. I’m fine right now.” No one looks like they believe him, but when he moves to stand, they don’t stop him, either. “It’s getting late, let’s take that picture and get back to the hotel.”

_“Felix.”_ It’s the steel in the professor’s voice that stops him in his tracks. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

_“Felix, are you alright?” Somehow, the words were worse coming from the professor. He could take them from Ingrid and Dimitri, both of whom shared a similar grief with him. He could grin and bear it from Annette and Mercedes, nod when Ashe checked on him. But it was different, hearing it from the professor. They had always respected his silent wish to not talk about his feelings, had always respected it, until the war ended, that was._

_“I’m fine. Busy, too. The boar was looking for you.” He did not want to talk, they of all people had to know that. The professor had always had the eerie ability to pass the front that Felix had put up and see straight into his soul. Sylvain had been able to do it too, but now Sylvain was dead._

_“If you want to lie about it, that’s fine, but I need you to come with me.” Felix ignored them, marching on toward his destination, only for the professor’s hand to close around his arm, trapping him in their strong grip. He turned and raised an eyebrow, fighting the frustration that threatened to rise to the surface. “It will only be a moment.”_

_“You no longer command me,_ Archbishop. _You are no longer my professor. So I suggest you let go of me, right now, or I will cut you open and feed you to the fish.”_

_He wanted the professor to be annoyed, to be angry, to be_ anything. _Instead, they looked amused as they pulled away, their hands clasped behind their back as they tilted their head in the direction of the cathedral. “Follow me.”_

_He scowled. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”_

_“Felix.” He sighed as he turned to face the boar, approaching them from the dining hall. “The archbishop has asked my permission to relieve you of your services for the afternoon. Please, do as they say.”_

_“I don’t take orders from you, either,” Felix wanted to snap, but he couldn’t. Dimitri, despite everything, was his king above all, and even as the king’s right hand and shield, he was subject to the boar’s rule. He glared for a moment before bowing his head. “Of course.”_

_The professor smiled and started toward the cathedral. “Follow me. Dimitri, I believe Ashe requires your assistance in the greenhouse.”_

_The walk to the cathedral was silent, and Felix spent it trailing right behind the professor, wishing desperately that he could release his anger on a training dummy in the Knight’s Hall. They crossed the long bridge to the large, crumbled. building and Felix stared at the half-broken steps, the cracks in the walls, all the signs of destruction that still remained. It had only been a year since the war ended, and while the rest of the monastery had been repaired with all due haste, the cathedral had yet to be touched._

_A gust of wind blew the doors open once they reached the top of the staircase—the professor’s own magic, no doubt, seeing that Felix had not mastered any wind magic himself—revealing the abandoned cathedral. Once, it had been filled with the loud voices of the choir, the chatter of monks and visitors from the nearby towns. Now it was empty._

_He was not sure what he was expecting or where they were going, but the professor led him off toward the left and he followed dutifully. Their steps slowed and slowed some more, then came to a stop in front of the doors to the Holy Mausoleum._

_“Why are we here?” he asked as they retrieved the key that hung around their neck, sliding it into the lock._

_The professor turned to look at him as they pulled the doors open. “She wishes to meet you and to make a bargain, if you are willing. Come.”_

_Felix wanted to ask who, exactly,_ she _was, but the professor was already descending the steps and he hurried to follow. The space that it opened into looked exactly as it did six years ago, when they first fought Edelgard and watched Dimitri begin his spiral into madness. “Who are we meeting here?”_

_“Sothis?”_

_Felix frowned._ Sothis? But that’s the name of the goddess. _Even Felix knew that, as most raised in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus did. Had the professor gone mad?_

_“Oh, how wonderful! Come, bring him closer. I’d like to have a better look at him.”_

_Felix shouted in surprise at the third voice, drawing his sword as he watched a figure materialize right before his eyes. Where the throne at the end of the room was once empty, there was now a girl with dark green hair seated lazily atop it, beckoning him forward with a wave of her hand._

_“Who are you? Archbishop, don’t move any closer.”_

_The girl rolled her eyes and righted herself on the throne. “He’s quite rude, isn’t he? And to think that I proposed this idea in the first place, I can’t even blame it on you.”_

_“Felix, put your sword away,” the professor said, eyeing him warily. “She’s not going to hurt you.”_

_The girl frowned. “Whenever did I say that? Now you’re putting words into my mouth.”_

_The professor scowled at her. “Sothis, be silent.”_

_“I am the goddess of Fódlan, you can’t tell me to keep quiet!”_

_“By the goddess, what the hell is going on here?” Their bickering fell silent and they both turned to look at him as he sheathed his sword. “First, you drag me down into the Holy Mausoleum, then you refuse to explain what’s going on. Sothis? The goddess? Are you mad?”_

_“Very rude indeed,” the girl huffed. Between one blink and the next, she moved from her place on the throne to float behind the professor, leaning her arms on their head. They shook their head and rolled their eyes but did not move. “Listen now, I’ll only say this once! I am Sothis, the Beginning, and I am here to offer you a bargain. I understand that you lost a friend of yours during the war.”_

_“He was more than just a friend,” Felix muttered, only because Sylvain would never be around to hear it._

_“Well, I’ll bring him back for you!” She clasped her hands together and suddenly she was floating in front of him so they were eye-to-eye. “I never could resist a love story, and yours will be one for the ages!”_

_Felix blinked, raising his hands in front of him to push her away. Instead they went straight through her. “Wait, you need to slow down. I didn’t agree to anything.”_

_“You don’t need to agree to anything. I can just snap my fingers and you’ll live happily ever after.” There was a gleam in her eyes that told him that it was more than just that. Nothing could ever be so simple._

_“There’s no guarantee,” the professor said softly._

_“What?” He glanced at them sharply. “What do you mean?”_

_They raised their voice as they approached, a solemn look on their face. “She can save him, preserve his life and his soul, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll ever meet again. Sylvain will be frozen in time until you find him, and you . . .”_

_Sothis finished for them, floating back to their side. “You’ll die, again and again. You’ll live a hundred lives, a thousand, until you find him.”_

_“And if I don’t?”_

_Sothis and the professor exchanged a glance. “You’ll live and live and live, but Sylvain will stay frozen in time forever.”_

_It didn’t matter what they said, it didn’t matter what the consequences might be. Felix knew what his answer would be since the moment she first said that she would bring him back._

“I’m . . . fine,” he insists, but even he is not sure of himself anymore. “Just one picture, then we can go back to the hotel.”

“Only one picture,” the professor says, and nods for them to go.

Ingrid glares as she and Dorothea trail after him, the professor watching them from not far behind. “You want to take a picture right after you passed out? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“We only live once, right?” Felix isn’t sure how true that is anymore. “Might as well. I’m not exactly planning any return trips to Garreg Mach after this.”

She sighs, partly in disbelief and partly in exasperation, but Dorothea only raises her camera. The professor waits just behind her, their arms crossed, but the expression on their face is more contemplative than angry.

“Smile!” Dorothea shouts as Felix takes the statue’s hand and turns toward her. He does smile, as genuinely as he can.

That, of course, is when he realizes that the hand in his is no longer stone, and everything clicks into place.

“Hey, Fe. What took you so long? It’s rude to keep a guy waiting, you know.”

He looks up, and it’s Sylvain—his Sylvain, the one he had grown up with, the one he had fought with and for, the one who never got to live out his full life, but now might have a chance to.

With a scowl, Felix Hugo Fraldarius—and he _is_ Felix Hugo Fraldarius now, not just some strange reincarnation with the same name—gives Sylvain’s hand a hard tug, sending the other man tumbling from his stone horse and right into Felix’s arms.

“I hate you,” Felix snaps at the same time Sylvain grins and says, “I love you.”


End file.
